


Martine's Day Off

by andthatisterrible



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen, I had to learn how to write romance novels, overly direct allusions to stranger things season 2, the mayhem twins sort of make an appearance, there's a bubble bath for starters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthatisterrible/pseuds/andthatisterrible
Summary: Martine gets the day off work. The Team Samaritan crack fic that no one asked for or wanted.





	Martine's Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> With many apologies to Ms. Buono, the writers of poi and stranger things, and anyone who reads this.

“You’re giving me the day off? Are you sure about that, sir?”

“I’m not giving you anything, my dear. Samaritan is responsible for this joyous sabbatical now within your grasp.”

Martine wondered, not for the first time, if Greer deliberately spoke like a pompous git or if it just came naturally to him. Not that it really mattered. He paid her extremely well to do all the things she enjoyed doing, so as far as she was concerned he could talk like a second rate Bond villain to his heart’s content.

“And you’re sure it’s  _today_  that Samaritan said I could have off?” she asked.

“Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Greer looked like he was about to become cranky, so Martine decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and quickly excused herself.

“Not like you to question orders, Martine. Something on your mind?” Lambert had been leaning against the wall in the hallway and fell into step with her as she passed.

Why did her day off have to start with this sycophantic weasel wasting her time?

“I was confirming orders. Not questioning them.” She sped up a little, hoping that Lambert would take the hint and go bother someone else.

“And why would a paid vacation day need to be confirmed? What are you up to?” He tried to wiggle his eyebrows, causing his face to contort in a way that made Martine mildly seasick. “Something bad?”

Martine stopped, because she really didn’t want him following her all the way back to her quarters.

“Did you know that Samaritan is also giving most of the staff of this building the day off as well?”

“Only the non-essential staff, like the janitors and maintenance workers. No one who will be missed.” Lambert’s face twisted into a smirk. “I suppose Samaritan must see you as just another sort of janitor, Martine.” If he had looked any more pleased with himself he probably would have been crowing. “Well, do enjoy your little rest, and never fear, those of us vital to Samaritan’s plans will get along just fine without you.”

Martine kept her comments to herself and allowed him to prance away as if he’d won a great battle. Annoying to let him think he’d come out ahead, but worth it for the peace and quiet. Once he was out of sight she turned to look up at the little security camera in the corner of the hall.

“Just what are you playing at?” she asked quietly.

The light on the camera blinked, but there was no other reply.

Martine decided she’d wasted enough of her day off already and headed back to her quarters.

________

10:03am

_Joanne knew that this was the night he would come to her, striding across the darkened fields with the smell of thunder in his long, shining locks. She’d left the heavy shutters with their chipped blue paint wide open to let the sultry heat of the night into her room like a furtive lover. Anticipation crackled through her body like a runaway bolt of lightning. She could almost taste his scent in the heavy, summer breeze–forbidden honeysuckle and raw masculine musk. He smelled like temptation, salvation, and devastation all at once._

_She stood at the open window in…._

Martine lowered her book at the sound of footsteps in the hall outside her door. It wasn’t that no one else had a room in this hall (in fact her hallway seemed to be right in the middle of most of the building’s foot traffic for some reason), it was that someone had been walking up and down the hall and pausing outside her door for the last ten minutes and it was really breaking her immersion in her new novel.

When the footsteps paused again, she traded her book for her gun and went to investigate.

Lambert was standing in the hall looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

“Ah, Martine. Fancy running into you here.”

“This is my room.” She pointed her gun at him, not because she was worried, but just to be spiteful.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it? And it’s a lovely room. So–” Lambert looked over her shoulder at her quarters. “–practical. I love what you’ve done with arranging all the guns in size order. It really gives the room a certain  _something_.”

“Why are you here?” Martine asked and then held up a hand before Lambert could get a word in. “And if you say anything else about my room or my decorating, I  _will_ shoot you.” Shooting him would really be the best use of a paid vacation, though Greer  _was_  fond of him for some unfathomable reason.

“Ah, yes, well, the thing is, you know how all the staff have the day off? Well, the door to my room seems to be jammed again and usually Fred down in security jimmies it open for me, but I guess Fred is visiting his mother in Cleveland, so…” Lambert smiled hopefully.

“I’m not breaking into your room for you. Just shoot the lock off like an adult.”

“But it’s my door!” Lambert looked aghast.

“Then why not…” Martine paused, mid-suggestion. “You know what? This isn’t my problem.”

She shut the door in his face.

“Right then. I’ll just go sort that out now,” he called through the door.

Martine sighed and climbed back into her bed.

“I mean what common door would stand a chance against a top notch agent like me?”

Martine wondered if Greer would fire her for locking Lambert in a closet for the next 24 hours. Fortunately, he seemed to have given up after that and blessed silence fell again.

__________

12:42pm

_“I have come to you, Joanne, like you knew I would.”_

_Algernon Legrand was a vision of sin in the moonlight. His auburn tresses just brushed the shoulders of his billowing white shirt. The garment was unbuttoned and flapped around him in the warm breeze, drawing her gaze to his sculpted form which glistened under a thin sheen of sweat._

_“You shouldn’t be here,” Joanne weakly protested, her eyes locked on the exposed planes of his chest. “There’s too much at stake.”_

_“Nothing could keep me away from you,” Algernon proclaimed. His husky voice washed over her like melted chocolate._

_“But what about…”_

Martine didn’t have to open her door this time. After the third time she’d caught Lambert skulking in the hall, she’d chosen to leave the door open…to observe. Sure she could have locked her door and put on noise-cancelling headphones so she would be free to really enjoy the heart-wrenching tale of Joanne and Algernon, but there was something irresistible about seeing Lambert so far out of his depth.

His shoes were squeaking on the floor this time and, when he came into view as he passed by her doorway, she could see he was holding…yes, that was definitely a toilet plunger. This was almost better than Algernon’s bewitching abs.

“Having some trouble?” she called out.

He grimaced and gestured vaguely with the plunger. “The private bathroom in Greer’s suite is out of order, and I guess with the janitorial staff on leave there’s no one else he can trust this crisis to.”

“I’m sure his faith in you is well-placed. In fact, I can’t think of a better man for the job.”

Lambert hesitated, possibly suspicious of her sincerity. “Well, I am certainly the most versatile agent in the building.”

“Don’t let me keep you from your very important mission then.”

Lambert deflated a little. “Yes, well.” He looked down at his plunger and sighed. “Anything for the cause.”

After he’d squelched away, Martine turned to look at the security camera that was ever-present in the corner of her room. “I’m not sure why you’re doing this, but I can’t say I’m complaining.”

__________

1:45pm

Martine sank down deeper into the glorious hot water and the smell of vanilla candles. A song that sounded very familiar but that she couldn’t quite place played over the speakers, the female singer’s voice echoing gently through the bathroom. She might not have really wanted or needed a day off, but this was a nice change. Sometimes she just wanted a moment to relax and have a bubble bath between the bloodbaths.

She opened her book again and skimmed down the page to where she’d left off. Ah, right, Algernon had finally made it over the window ledge and into Joanne’s boudoir. Things were heating up in the rustic villa.

_“Can you feel how you’ve awakened my smoldering heart?” Algernon cried, clinging to her like she was the only port in the storm of his passion._

There was a crash from somewhere out in the hall, loud enough that Martine could hear it all the way in her bathroom with the door shut. She debated for only a second before her curiosity won out and she exchanged her book for the tablet she’d put on the edge of the huge tub. She pulled up the feed to the camera she’d installed to watch the hallway (Samaritan would have had it removed if it cared, she figured) and watched the drama unfolding outside.

The last she’d heard, Lambert was trying to fix a problem with the building’s air conditioning system, but now he was drenched from head to toe and bleeding profusely from what she thought might be a head wound of some sort. He had a wrench in one hand and a gun in the other.

 _“So it’s the laughter we will remember…”_  the singer crooned over the speakers and Martine found herself agreeing with the sentiment.

Out in the hallway, Lambert dropped his wrench on his foot.

“Well, that seems to be going well,” Martine mused. She set the tablet back on the edge of the tub and relaxed back into the bubbles with a content sigh.

__________

2:36pm

“Samaritan thinks it has a lead on the Machine’s interface.”

That got Martine’s attention. She looked up from the chair she was curled up in to find Lambert standing in the doorway to her room. He was more or less himself again, with only a bandage on his forehead as proof of his struggles.

“What kind of a lead?” she asked, despite herself. She knew that he  _wanted_  her to ask and be jealous, but she really did want to know and finding that woman was more important than her petty grudge with Lambert.

“Location where it thinks she’ll be in an hour. It doesn’t want to send in too many agents and risk tipping her off, so it’s only sending in the best of the best.”

Martine stared at him blankly. “I thought I had the day off.”

Lambert’s face flushed red. “It’s sending me. Obviously, it can’t trust anyone else for such a critical mission.”

Martine briefly entertained the notion of incapacitating him and getting herself assigned instead, but this whole day had been strange (to say the least), and she thought that perhaps the best course of action just this once would be sitting things out.

Plus if she took off now she’d never get to Joanne learning the innermost secrets of Algernon’s wild heart.

“Have fun.” She raised her book up, but, when there’d been no sound of Lambert leaving after ten seconds had passed, she lowered it again and raised an eyebrow in question at him.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Lambert glowered, clearly upset by her lack of reaction. “Yes, well, I’ll be on my way then.”

This time when she went back to her book, she heard his footsteps retreat down the hall.

__________

3:47pm

_“Tell me you haven’t envisioned this moment, in your darkest, most desperate fantasies.”_

_Joanne’s senses were overwhelmed by the untamed fire in Algernon’s eyes. His lithe, hardened body pressed against every inch of her and she could feel the heat of his ardour through her thin nightgown._

_She placed one hand on his strong, bare chest to feel his heart beating rapidly and…._

Martine looked at the caller ID on her phone and weighed her options. She could ignore Lambert’s call so that he’d be stuck dealing with the mess he’d undoubtedly made, but she’d potentially be missing out on a real mission involving the Machine’s interface.

She answered the call.

“Oh, Martine, thank god.”

Lambert was whispering.

“Listen, no one else is picking up their calls and I could really use some assistance at the moment.”

Martine fought down a wealth of condescending responses. If she broke his fragile ego too badly now, she’d never get to find out just how much he’d fucked up.

“What’s your situation?” she asked.

“I’ve strategically located myself in a secure location for the time being. But they might still be out there.”

“Who?”

“I’m not completely sure. I think it must have been a mad man. He crashed right into my car and then backed up and crashed into it again and then when I made it to what I thought was safety there was this very angry dog and it bit my arm and…do you think I need to be worried about rabies?”

There was a lot of echo coming over the phone.

“Where exactly is this secure location?”

There was a long moment of silence and then Lambert hissed, “It’s a dumpster, alright? It was the only place to hide because there was a sniper as well and I almost  _died_. The whole thing must have been a trap.”

“Where’s your dumpster?” Because if she let Lambert die then Greer might replace him with someone even worse. Better the incompetent suck-up she knew.

She still waited fifteen minutes after hanging up to put out a call for someone to go pick him up.

She wondered if this had been a test for the Machine, or for Lambert. Or for her. She wondered if any of them had passed.

_________

4:58pm

“I mean, I could have taken care of the situation myself, of course. Would have been the easiest thing in the world to have dealt with some unorganized vigilantes, but I wanted to make sure you felt included in this vital mission to help Samaritan, because I knew that–”

Martine tried very hard to tune out Lambert’s attempts to “thank” her. He’d almost gotten half a sentence out before he’d started in on the self-congratulating. But his voice was so grating and obnoxious that she couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Lambert.”

He ground to a halt. “Yes?”

“Leave. Now.”

He opened his mouth to say something and she raised her gun. She didn’t think she’d ever felt more tempted to use it.

Lambert looked back and forth between the gun and her face and then swallowed hard and scuttled away without another word.

Martine breathed a sigh of relief and went back to lie down.

“Now where was I?” She flipped through the pages of her book. “Ah, yes.” She’d been just about to get to the good part.

_“We’ve waited long enough for this moment, my love,” Algernon whispered in her ear, his voice a rough growl full of a dark promise that sent tendrils of desire through her body. “Tonight you will have everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”_

_“You’re right,” Joanne breathed against his rugged chest. “I’ve denied myself this for too long.”_

_She laid her fingers on the smooth skin of his muscled chest._

_“Thank you, Algernon, for freeing me from a prison of my own doubts, for teaching me to embrace my desires.”_

_“All that I have to offer is yours, Joanne.” His eyes glimmered in the soft light._

_“I know,” she said, and her fingers pressed hard against his chest, fingernails biting into his flawless skin and shattering his perfect rib cage. Blood, red as lust, trickled down her arm and saturated her white lace nightgown._

_When she finally released him and let him fall, limp and boneless to the floor, she held her bloody prize aloft for all the night to see._

_Algernon had given her his heart and she would treasure it for eternity._

__________

5:15pm

“Yes, sir?”

“Sorry to disrupt your day off, my dear, but we’ve got a small situation we could use your assistance with tonight. I’d send Lambert but he’s been a bit off all day and I’m afraid I’m going to need someone with a clear head on the field.”

Martine didn’t comment on Lambert’s day. She figured that if by some miracle Greer didn’t know then Samaritan didn’t want him to know and that was none of her business.

Well, her day off had been nice while it had lasted. A pity she worked with the Lamberts of the world and not the Algernons. Some people weren’t worth chipping a nail during a forcible organ removal over.

“I’ll be right up, sir.”

She looked at the security camera in the corner again as she got ready. Had all of this been for some deeper reason? Had Samaritan just been toying with them? She wondered if she’d ever know.

She tucked Algernon and Joanne away under her bed and headed back to work.

**Author's Note:**

> I had never read a romance novel before writing this, so I spent a very educational few hours reading excerpts from some online to learn the genre. I'm fairly pleased with the results.


End file.
